How To Write Bad Fanfiction
by Michelle the Editor
Summary: Based on the How To Write Badly Well blog, this fic carefully walks through all the steps to creating a truly horrific fanfic. Applicable to any fandom, involves several nonsensical Star Trek crossovers in later chapters. Badfic summaries are always cut o
1. Chapter 1: Beginnings

Disclaimer: This is based on the hilarious "How to Write Badly Well" blog, which I do not own, and is set in the A-Team, which I also do not own.

First, let's get something very important out of the way: in order to write well, you have to write badly. Writing wish fulfillment, doodling out your fantasies, just going with no regards for spelling and grammar-those are all important tools in writing. You can't pound out a perfect first draft, and if you try, you'll strangle your creativity.

But here's the thing. You can't stop there. If you really do have a good idea, then thinking about it and revising will help you polish and shape it into something amazing. It's hard, but 90% of writing is rewriting, and sometimes you can find brilliant bits in the process. Even the best idea can be ruined by bad execution, and even a poor idea can become readable if it's handled right.

Write for yourself. Publish for your readers.

That said, tongue is lodged firmly in cheek from here on down.

~(oOo)~

**For the beginning writer, fan-fiction writing can be a challenge. Not to worry, though! This handy guide will walk you through creating an exciting story that will have the reviewers eating out of your hand.**

**Rule I: Take time to establish your characters. They are the heart of your story, and it should revolve around the ones you yourself create, so you need to make sure that yours are memorable. The best guide is to make them attractive, so the reader will like them, and give them tragic pasts to create sympathy. Make sure you start at least three chapters before any action occurs. If you want to create a feeling of depth, go back a few generations and explain your character's history. **

**Rule II: Use familiar phrases to keep your readers comfortable. Call eyes "orbs," describe girls as having "curves in all the right places," or being the "most beautiful woman in the world," and use the word "stated" as a dialogue tag whenever you can.**

**Rule III: Good descriptions help the reader picture your character in their head. Make them detailed, and don't leave out the clothing, not even the brand names. Don't worry about it seeming dated or being anachronistic, it gives your fic an anchor in a specific time. Also, don't worry about describing little things like rooms or minor people—your reader knows what a room looks like already! Canon characters may be introduced with epithets, like "the white-haired man," or better yet, "the hazel-eyed man," because the first thing anyone notices about any other person is their eye color. Sorry, orb color.**

Christina Hansen could easily have been called the most beautiful girl in the world. She had waist-length honey-colored curls, iridescent emerald orbs, a delightfully peaked nose, peaches-and-cream complexion, and a rosebud mouth. Her body curved in all the right places, and she was just the right height—about five foot six.

If her life hadn't been so horribly unfair, then she probably would have ended up a princess. However, she lived with an alcoholic father who was the only human being to not be charmed by her looks, and so he neglected or abused her, depending on how much he'd drunk that day. Finally she ran away, carrying only the clothes on her back—a pink T-shirt, jeans, a black hoodie with "My life has its own soundtrack" on it, and black boots—and a special locket engraved with a tiger's face.

Fortunately, a rich socialite took Christina in, and she was able to raise her twin daughters, Anna and Alyssa, in luxury. Both girls were even more beautiful than their mother. Anna had reddish curls and defiant blue orbs that shone of her perfect, heart-shaped face. Alyssa had black hair that usually hung in her chalk-white face, obscuring her glittering black orbs. She was quiet and rarely played with her sister, preferring to spend her time on magnifying glasses and anthills. Even so, their mother loved them both equally, and Anna never resented her sister's behavior—though she did try to save the ants.

Eventually, the two girls grew up, and fell in love with the same man. He chose Anna, and while Alyssa was furious at first, she bided her time until the two had a child. Then Alyssa stole the baby, along with the locket that had belonged to her mother, and ran to a corrupt judge she'd found. She changed her identity and had the baby written down as her own. That girl, named Lisa by her parents and Ursula by her conniving aunt, grew up to be a spectacular creature, with flowing chocolate hair and innocent sea-green eyes…

~(oOo)~

**Rule IV: Don't worry about coming up with original, logical explanations for your plot; only the most nitpicky of reviewers will complain, and we don't need to worry about those basement-dwellers! Use Deus Ex Machinas, like magical lockets, even if this is a science fiction fanfic, or prophecies, dreams or amnesia to explain problems. If you can't think of any good reasons, don't say anything and nobody will notice.**

**Rule V: Make your OC react realistically, like a normal person would under the circumstances. Try lots of different emotions as you think of them, or refuse to believe that the given situation is real despite tangible proof, like real, sane people do.**

~(oOo)~

Alex Hansen sighed and leaned back on her futon, settling in for another episode of the A-Team. She twirled one lock of her electric blue-dyed hair around a manicured finger, as the opening monologue began. Her violet eyes, which everyone who met her noticed immediately, lit up as BA's van crossed the screen. She was dressed in her favorite green A-Team T-shirt, a denim jacket, pink leggings and boots. How she loved this show.

A farmer was talking to his daughter about their crop difficulties. Alex played with the chain of her locket, a family heirloom from who knew how long ago, which she'd found in an attic and loved because the tiger looked just like the one on Murdock's jacket. There he was now, talking to Billy the invisible dog again. Alex giggled. He was so cute when he was being crazy. That was the last thing Alex remembered before blacking out.

When Alex woke up, the first thing she saw was that she wasn't in her own room. Alex realized she had a headache. Sitting up, she looked around, and froze in disbelief. The girl was sitting on a bed in a hospital that looked uncannily like the VA. She was alone, but not for long. The door swung open, and a nurse walked in, looking over a medical report. Then she noticed Alex staring at her.

"Good, you're awake," she stated. "How's your head? You took a really nasty fall."

"Where am I?" Alex asked, sitting up. Her head hurt.

"In the VA."

"I must be dreaming," Alex stated, lying back down. The nurse smiled and left.

~(oOo)~

A/N: Yes, the multi-generational fic has an actual fic base, only I shortened it to three moderately painful paragraphs. Also, it may be irrational, but I cringe whenever I see the word "stated" in a fic. Misuse has corrupted the poor dear.


	2. Chapter 2: Characters

~(oOo)~

**Rule VI: Canon Characters are very important. You would be on Fiction Press without them, so make sure you understand them, but don't worry, you aren't going to have to work to do this. You don't even need to have watched much of the show! Define them by their appearances and catchphrases, so the reader can recognize them, and you won't be accused of writing them "OOC." Once you do that, you can have them do essentially whatever your plot needs.**

**Rule VII: If you don't like a particular character, then let your readers know! They'll probably agree, and enjoy watching an annoying person get a well-deserved put-down. Better yet, kill the character off in a possibly humorous way. By suddenly knocking off a canon character, you shock your readers into realizing that this is a serious situation, and if you pick the right person, it opens up a whole new relationship for your OC and the dead person's loved one.**

Face pulled into the VA parking lot, accompanied by Tawnia. They were back to get Murdock out of the VA for a mission, again.

"I don't see why we have to use my car," Tawnia grumbled, as she pocketed her keys.

"Why scam one when we have a car already?" Face asked, slamming his door. Tawnia rolled her eyes and started for the door.

"You'd better wait out here," Face said quickly, jumping in front of Tawnia.

"What? Why?"

"If they see you too many times, they'll get suspicious," Face said, and went inside. Furiously, Tawnia stomped back to her car. On the other side of the parking lot, Colonel Decker watched her through binoculars.

"It's definitely her," he said, handing the binoculars to his aide. Tawnia glanced around cautiously, and made her way across the parking lot to where the MP cars were hidden behind the bushes.

"Peck's picking up the A-Team's old pilot from Vietnam," the reporter said, looking around nervously to make sure she wasn't seen. "The mission is rescuing some kidnapped kid." Decker smiled at Tawnia.

"Thank you, Miss Baker," he said, "You will be well-rewarded." Grinning, Tawnia turned to go, not seeing Decker screw a silencer onto his pistol. The shot hit the reporter through the back of her head, and she dropped without a sound.

Little did Decker realize, but Alex happened to look out the window as some of his men dragged Tawnia's corpse into the woods. Her eyes widened in shock, and she backed slowly away from the window. She had to warn the A-Team!

**Rule VIII: Readers, my dear friend, like to know who the good and bad guys are at a glance. Make it easy for them. Beauty equals goodness, and ugliness is automatically evil, just like in the real world. As well, make sure your heroes are righteous, never doing anything morally ambiguous of their own free will, and your villains never stray from the path of wrongdoing. You also don't need to concern yourself with the motivations of minor characters. Mean fathers are alcoholic and abusive because they want to be cruel, not out of depression or any remotely human reason.**

Face, pushing Murdock in a wheelchair, stopped to argue with the nurse. The pilot stretched to peek through the gap in the door, and paused. Inside the room was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. She had blonde hair with dyed violet streaks, chartreuse eyes, a perfect tan, and a very appealing body structure. The bandage around her temples gave her a vulnerable look.

The girl sat up and met Murdock's gaze. She stared for a moment, and then leaped to her feet and rushed to the door.

"Decker's waiting outside! He knows you're here and has a trap already!" She yelled, with a voice like wind chimes. The nurse, a fat old lady with frown wrinkles, punched the door and yelled for Alex to shut up, but the girl kept on yelling. Face and Murdock exchanged an alarmed glance, and swinging the wheelchair around, Face made for the back entrance.

The nurse unlocked the door and slapped Alex across the cheek. Startled, the girl stopped shouting.

"Shut it or I'll put you in a straitjacket!" The nurse yelled, shaking Alex with each syllable. When Alex didn't say anything, the woman smirked cruelly, let go and walked out, locking the door behind her. Curling up on the bed, Alex shed a single, crystalline tear. Then she heard a tapping on the window.

Sitting up, the teenage girl looked over to see Murdock standing at the window. Alex darted over and threw the window open.

"Thanks for the warning, come on," Murdock said, opening the screen and offering Alex a hand. Taking it with a grin, Alex climbed out the window and shut it behind her. The trio tiptoed around to Tawnia's car, hopped in, and Face started the engine.

~(oOo)~

**Rule IX: If coming up with a strong OC proves to be too difficult, then simply use yourself! No, not the You who can barely manage five push-ups and has semi permanent acne, the You you imagine yourself as: beautiful/handsome, strong and very talented, because as Rule VIII stated, nobody ugly could possibly be sympathetic enough to be the hero! Also, since this is you, take any and all criticism of the character personally, because it actually is you they're criticizing, and you don't want to change who you are for a bunch of strangers on the internet!**

My fingers paused in their typing. I leaned back in my chair, and glanced over into the mirror, whose frame was surrounded by printed-out pictures of Murdock. Once again, I took in my blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and fair complexion. I thought about what I would do if I was Alex—I'd used my middle name for her, because I liked it better—and had just joined the A-Team. Probably be going fangirl-crazy, talking about how I know everything about them. They'd be surprised by that, and decide to take me—sorry, Alex—to see Hannibal, because I'd—Alex would—be so valuable to Decker if he found out.

I looked again at my favorite picture of Murdock, and smiled. He and I—Alex!—had so much in common. Both of them had been stuck in the VA, they were both pilots. Instant attraction. Now came the fun part!

~(oOo)~

**Rule X: Romance is very important in any fanfic. Often, it's the driving force behind the story. The lovely thing about romance is that any two people can fall in love, especially people who hate each other, purely based on physical attraction! Just put them alone together in a situation, and let them be sweet at each other. Others should tease them about their attraction to each other, seeing it before they do—especially former loves, who will either move quietly aside or become insanely jealous monsters.**

Murdock glanced at Alex as they drove down the road.

"How'd you get in the VA?" He asked.

"I-I'm not sure," Alex said, swiping at her eyes. "I don't really remember. The nurse said I hit my head. I don't remember anything but my name." **(A/N: I forgot 2 put this in the last chappie, but Alex only remembers the A-Tam oopsie :P)** Murdock put an arm around Alex's shoulder and squeezed comfortingly.

"Hey, it'll come back," he said, "With a lump that small, there can't be any permanent damage." Alex smiled at him, and felt a small thrill go down her spine. He was so handsome and so nice to her.

"Thanks, Murdock," she said, adding before he could say anything "I heard your friend say your name."

~(oOo)~

**Rule XI: You may, at some point, introduce children of the canon characters. To make sure everyone knows whose children they are, make them act exactly like their parent(s)—and since parenthood changes people, let the canon parents become very protective and loving or abusive, whichever you prefer to write.**

Hannibal and B.A. were waiting at an abandoned warehouse with the client, a young woman. Face took one look at her golden curls and sapphire eyes and instantly forgot all the other women he'd conned and romanced. Alex laughed at the look on his face as she and Murdock went past him and inside. After a second he snapped out of it and followed.

"This is Rachelle Smith," Hannibal said. "Her son was kidnapped by mobsters three days ago, and the police are in on it."

"Three days? Hannibal, didn't Mr. Lee even check her out?" B.A. asked.

"Mr. Lee didn't need to," Hannibal snapped, lighting his cigar. "I can guarantee this client is trustworthy." Rachelle smiled up at him.

"Thanks, Daddy," she said, and sniffled a little. Face, B.A. and Murdock's jaws all dropped. Alex laughed again.

"Well, she has your eyes," she said. Murdock laughed.

"Good point, Alex," he said. Alex flushed at the compliment.

~(oOo)~

A/N: I do find Tawnia irritating, but she's still a canon character and deserves respectful treatment. I agree with Linkara: if you're going to kill a character, make it their Crowning Moment of Awesome. The "appealing body structure" is a phrase I encountered in one particular new writer's work—which was sent to me privately, being original fiction—over and over again. She was an awesome person and a real sport, but that description is just too funny.


	3. Chapter 3: Plotting

Disclaimer: I own neither the formatting idea—from How to Write Badly Well—nor the fandom—The A-Team—nor even the idea of the Mary Sue!

~(oOo)~

**Rule XII: There's a thing in the real world known as "logic," that often determines how people behave. However, since this is fan-fiction, it is a little tweeting bird, chirping in a meadow, or a wreath of pretty flowers that smell bad. Whatever makes your plot work, go with it. You could even have a character you don't like point out problems, if it bothers you, but just smooth them over however you like. You are the Author: your readers should be grateful that you're pointing this out at all, and if you're not praised to the skies for it, then something's wrong with the reviewers. I'll explain the best response to this in Chapter 5.**

"Colonel Decker probably arranged it," Alex blurted out. "The kidnapping, I mean. He knew Face was coming to get Murdock out of the VA."

"But Decker doesn't know Murdock's part of the A-Team," B.A. said.

"He suspects," Alex said. "He'll probably be here soon." Almost as she finished speaking, the group could hear sirens in the distance.

"I know another hiding place," Rachelle said, standing up and hurrying to the door. The others followed, Hannibal going with his daughter to her car, and the others piling into the A-Team Van. Alexa giggled a little and bounced in her seat: she was actually in The Van! B.A. gave her a strange look as he started the engine, but Alexa didn't pay it any heed.

Decker's men came around the corner in three police cars, sirens blaring. The Van lurched into movement, and the two vehicles went in opposite directions. Two of the police cars went after B.A.'s van, and the other followed the Smiths. Alexa watched their pursuers through the rear view mirror. They darted between warehouses and soon came out onto a dock.

"Now what?" Face snapped, as they zoomed down past the fishing boats.

"Hey, I have an idea," Alexa said, "B.A., turn around."

"I should 'a known, Murdock got us another crazy fool from the VA!" B.A. replied.

"Just do it!" Alexa cried. B.A. swung the car around with squealing tires, sending a shower of splinters into the air. The two cop cars had stopped at the end of the dock.

"Okay, gun it!" Alexa said. The engine revved, and the black van started back down the dock. The cars moved to block their path, but B.A. only sped up. At the very last second, the two cars zoomed out of the way, rear-ending two cars parked nearby, and the A-Team drove back into the city.

"I'm not so crazy, then?" Alexa asked.

"Shut up," B.A. grumbled. "We got to find Hannibal." Alexa leaned back in her seat and folded her arms, smirking triumphantly. She glanced back, met Murdock's eye, and flushed. The look of awe on his face was so adorable!

~(oOo)~

**Rule XIII: Don't worry about coming up with original, or even logical, reasons for your OC to be included. Your audience will nod with recognition if you use fate, a prophecy, a string of coincidences or even just give your character one brilliant speech on why she should come, despite having no useful skills. A string of coincidences is the best basis for your plot—and for getting your OC and One True Love together a lot.**

The A-Team met again in a small motel on the edge of town, after Hannibal was able to call their radio on a payphone and tell the others where he and Rachelle had gone. It was nighttime, and the six people were crammed into one hotel room, going over the kidnapping.

"We were at the park," Rachelle said. "Jack was playing his toy airplanes, and he wandered off into the trees. I didn't think anything of it until I heard him scream. I ran after him, but all I found were his toys and this note." She passed a sheet of paper to Hannibal, who unfolded it, puffing on one of his cigars.

"If you want to see your son again, come with five hundred dollars to the Reb Brown Wharf at midnight, and come alone or we'll return him in installments." He gritted his teeth and threw the paper down. B.A. muttered something ominous about what would happen to those guys when he met them. Alexa, fists clenched in anger, looked over to see Murdock obliviously watching Woody Woodpecker.

"We'll stake out the Wharf," Hannibal began, "B.A. on one of the boats, I'll be behind Rachelle, Face on the roof and Murdock behind a car."

"I want to help, too," Alexa cut in.

"You're just a kid," B.A. protested. Alexa shot him an annoyed look.

"I'm sixteen," she said, "And what do you expect me to do? Wait on the sidelines? I may not be able to shoot a gun, but I want to do what's right. I hate these guys as much as you do, and I want to get Jack back." Then, flushing, she looked down at her lap. She didn't add that she felt…fated to join the A-Team. It was the only thing she could remember, so it must be important.

"Okay," Hannibal said, and Alexa looked up. "We can teach you to shoot a gun, and you can back Murdock up. But follow my orders without asking any questions, okay?"

"Really?" Alexa asked.

"Welcome to the A-Team, Miss Hansen," Hannibal said, holding out his hand. Face and Murdock had come over, and all of the A-Team were grinning in approval.

"Thank you!" Alexa cried, seizing his hand. "I'll do whatever you tell me, Colonel!" Everyone had to smile at her enthusiasm.

~(oOo)~

**Rule XIV: Focus on the important aspects of your fic, and summarize the rest so your reader doesn't get bored. The important aspects are mainly the ones about your OC. Fights, canon character interactions that don't relate to the OC, and anything you have to think about while writing are what most readers skim over.**

Everyone was in place around the dock, and it was eleven-thirty. Next to Murdock, Alexa aimed her gun at the spot where the bad guys were due to arrive, and tried to imagine actually pulling the trigger. She jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder, but it was only Murdock.

"Hey, relax," he said softly. "It's just for show, nobody's going to get shot." Alexa nodded, biting her lip.

"Thanks, I just…it never felt quite real until now," she said.

"It never feels real to me," Murdock replied cheerfully, and Alexa had to grin. "By the way, how do you know so much about us?"

"I…I'm a fan," Alexa stammered. "I've read all of Amy's articles."

"You got any favorites?" Murdock asked mischievously. Alexa flushed.

Then the kidnappers' boat arrived, and they all climbed out, carrying Jack in a sack. The A-Team popped out of their hiding places, and Rachelle and her son ducked to safety as the bad guys started shooting.

After all of the bad guys had been disarmed and tied up, and the one who'd kidnapped Jack had gotten a good dunking courtesy of B.A., Hannibal began explaining what was going to happen to them.

"Colonel Decker doesn't like kidnappers any more than us, so when he comes after us and finds you, he'll probably take out his frustration on all of you."

**Rule XV: This is the A-Team; with all the guns and bombs being waved around, people are bound to get hurt. If all you know about treating trauma wounds is from that episode of ER that you saw at midnight once, never fear, it's fanfiction, and you should know by now that you don't have to put any effort into it at all!**

Alexa was sitting nearby, listening to Hannibal talk, when she saw something glint behind a stack of barrels. She looked more carefully, and her heart leaped into her throat; it was the barrel of a gun, pointing right at Hannibal. One of the thugs must have hidden.

"Hey, we missed one!" She cried, springing to her feet. The man jumped up too, and as the rest of the team went for their guns, he fired his pistol directly at Hannibal. But Alexa jumped in the way just in time, and crumpled as B.A. tackled the thug from behind.

"Alexa!" Murdock shouted in dismay, rolling her over. A bloodstain spread across the stomach of her "Alexander the Great" T-Shirt, and she coughed wetly. Gently, B.A. picked her up and the team started back to the van, just as Colonel Decker's police sirens began sounding in the distance.

~(oOo)~

**Rule XVI: Flashbacks are a popular technique created by filmmakers for giving back-story. Use them whenever you can, especially if your character has been knocked unconscious, because everyone knows unconscious people dream. Always give your character a tragic back-story; it makes people automatically like them—and anyone unaffected is a sociopathic Nazi monster!**

_~Flashback~_

_Five-year-old Alexa was playing in the sandbox in her backyard. The sun was beginning to set, and her mother was calling her to come inside, but Alexa didn't pay any attention. She was too busy slamming trucks into each other and crashing them in the dunes._

_Then she realized that her mother had stopped calling. It was starting to get cold outside, and she shivered. Creeping back to the house, she heard her father's car coming down the road, and considered grabbing her coat and sleeping in her special place under the porch. He was always drunk when he came back at this time._

_Then the door burst open and Alexa's mother burst out, dragging a suitcase. She grabbed her daughter's hand and began pulling her to the car, shouting incoherently. Terrified, Alexa stumbled along, as she saw her father's one working headlight coming down the road. Her mother lifted her into the car, buckled her in and started the engine._

_Looking in the rear view mirror, Alexa saw her father's car still following them, and her mother hit the gas pedal. The chase was long and twisty, but then Alexa heard sirens. A flashing blue-and-red light came up out of the darkness, and Alexa's mother pulled over to the side of the road. Then Alexa's father's car zipped around the policeman's, and he pulled over in front of Alexa and her mother._

"_Alexa, hide!" Her mother cried, unbuckling her and pushing her into the back. Crouching behind her seat, Alexa listened as her father stormed into the car and dragged her mother out. The woman was begging him to stop, but Alexa's father growled something drunkenly, and then there was a gunshot. Alexa froze. The policeman shouted something, and then there was another gunshot._

_A very, very long time later, a policewoman opened the car door and began coaxing Alexa out. She went slowly, and the woman carried her through a swarm of police cars to an ambulance. Looking around, Alexa saw two covered bodies on gurneys, and pointed._

"_Is that my mommy and daddy?" She asked. Blood had started seeping through the sheets._

"_No, sweetheart," the woman hushed._

"_Are they dead?" Alexa persisted._

"_Just be quiet, honey. What's your name?" Alexa started crying._

_~End Flashback.~_

**Rule XVII: Plot twists are fun. You have two options here. One, the character drama twist. Will Alex and Murdock fall in love? Just who is this mysterious new girl? (Put those in as Author's Notes at the end, it keeps your readers guessing if you don't seem sure yourself.) Two, the complete surprise. The bad guys have the A-Team surrounded, when a blue streak speeds through the bad guys, knocking them all aside, and stopping in front of the team to reveal Sonic the Hedgehog! Also, you don't need to have any reason for this crossover to occur, that's what real books are for! This twist you don't want to foreshadow at all, while the other must be hinted at and chuckled over constantly, otherwise the readers will think it's too sudden.**

The van jolted, and Alexa whimpered in pain. The police sirens were very loud now.

Murdock, trying to stop the bleeding with a wadded-up shirt, snapped "Drive more carefully, would you?"

"I'm doing the best I can!" B.A. snapped. Hannibal put a hand on Murdock's shoulder.

"We're all tense," the older man said. "Don't take it out on each other." Murdock sniffled.

"Alexa's hurting real bad," he said. "We've got to get her to a hospital fast." The pilot desperately didn't want this wonderful girl, who he'd only just gotten to know, to die. Understandingly, Hannibal clapped him on the shoulder.

Then a police car pulled out directly in front of them. B.A. slammed into it, and the Van screeched to a halt. Decker's voice came on over loudspeakers.

"Smith, throw all your guns out of the car and come out with your hands in the air. I know one of you is injured, and if you surrender, I promise we'll get the man to a hospital." Reluctantly, the A-Team pulled out their guns and tossed them out the windows. "That's it, now get out," Decker purred. Some of his men didn't bother to wait for the Team to come out of their own will, yanking the door open and holding the group at gunpoint.

Hannibal, Face, Murdock and B.A. climbed out, glaring at Decker. Two of the MP's climbed in and carried Alexa out, dropping her none too gently on the ground. All of the A-Team glared at them helplessly. Decker strode forward, smirking, and looked down at the teenage girl.

"Where'd you pick up this piece of trash?" He asked. Murdock took a step forward, but Hannibal and three automatic rifle barrels blocked his path. Decker lifted an eyebrow. "Grown attached, have we? Get them into the truck," he said, gesturing to the A-Team. One MP took B.A.'s keys away and went to the van. The four men were shoved into a nearby armored truck, and Decker took a last look at Alexa, lying on the ground. Then he shrugged and walked away.

The police cars all drove away, and for a minute everything was quiet. Then three sparkling silhouettes began to materialize on the ground. Within seconds, the shapes had become three men in Starfleet uniforms, two in blue and one in gold. One of the blue-clad men darted over to Alexa and began scanning her with a tricorder.

"Analysis, Mr. Spock?" The gold-shirted man asked. The other man, who had pointed ears and upswept eyebrows, glanced around the area.

"We appear to have landed on late twentieth-century Earth, approximately 1980," he said.

"Try to figure out how," Kirk said, and hurried over to McCoy.

"She'll be fine," McCoy assured the captain, as he put his medkit away. "I took the bullet out and repaired the blood vessels. She should be talking in a few hours."

"Good, good," Kirk said. "Maybe she'll know what's going on." Alexa stirred slightly, and the doctor stilled her with a gentle hand.

~(oOo)~

Real A/N: The Sappy!Murdock and Caring!Hannibal were actually painful to write. The weird thing is, though, I'm starting to understand how a fangirl can write something as stupid as this, and still feel proud of it, or imagine it happening on the show. If you put effort into something, even a little, you feel like you've done something, and if you know fanfiction, it's far too easy to imagine praise coming in for those moments you particularly favor. Huh, this is more educational than I thought it'd be.

Up next: Nuts and Bolts of Writing, a.k.a. the Really Insane Chapter.

No, I don't own Star Trek either, but if I'd disclaimed it at the top of the page, then that would have given everything away—not putting it in the summary, or even switching the category to a crossover, because who actually reads that? Seriously, how many of you have oneshots clearly listed as Complete that are on someone's Story Alert?

~(oOo)~


	4. Chapter 4: Nuts and Bolts

Disclaimer: I cannot claim either the A-Team or Star Trek for my own.

~(oOo)~

**Rule XVIII: Switch POV constantly, so we aren't left wondering what anyone—and by anyone I mean everyone—is thinking, because that would build the wrong kind of tension entirely. What you want is to let the reader wonder if Hannibal will let Alex join the team, but then go into his head and show that he's only worried about her safety, so your reader won't get annoyed at the lack of your OC in even one scene and stop reading.**

The A-Team jolted along in the van, all feeling very low. Hannibal wished he had a brilliant plan in the works, one that would get them out of this jam and make Decker look like a fool at the same time, but he didn't have one. Murdock tried to stop thinking about seeing Alexa lying on the ground, bleeding her life out, and instead imagined what would happen to Decker when he got his hands on him. By the door, Face looked at his fellows and tried to figure out what they were thinking. B.A. was certain Hannibal had a plan, but was certain that Alexa was a goner, and felt bad for what he'd said earlier.

In the front of the truck, Decker was having the best night of his life. He'd finally gotten the A-Team—all of them!—and it looked as if they would finally lose this time. Captain Crane, driving the truck, hoped that his boss would finally get him that promotion for helping capture the A-Team. In the Jeeps traveling behind the van, the men there thought longingly about their beds. Driving B.A.'s Van, one rookie whistled a tune and pretended he was part of the A-Team. A nearby seagull stopped eating the fish he'd caught to watch the line of cars go by. The fish, being dead, didn't notice. The flies that had already begun working on the fish were too busy to care.

~(oOo)~

**Rule XIX: You may not know the difference between past and present tense. Maybe you used the wrong pronoun, and now Face has turned into a woman. I say, if you care about what you're writing, nobody will notice! This also goes for punctuation and spelling, even continuity—which is why, if you notice that your OC's hair color has changed from electric blue to blonde, you should just shrug and continue. Seriously, rip out the backspace key on your keyboard—you will never need it again! Whatever makes you happy at any given moment is fine! **

Alexa's eyes flutter open, and she looked around. Then she froze…captain kIrk is standing nearby talking to Spock! This was the best dream she ever hadd! She sits up and Kir noticed and looked over.

"Good youpre awake," he said and walked over. Alexa groans and furbs her head.

"whuat hapeened"? she asks. Kirk came over.

"You got shot, what happened?" he asked.

"Where's Murodck?" Alexa exclaimed, as she jumps to her feet and looked around wilidly. Mccoy put a hand on her and pushes her back gently.

"easy, honey, you're not fully healed yet," he said. Alexa pushed his hand away.

"The a-team, where are they?" She asked. "Colonel decker's got them, hasn't he?"

"What are you talking about? Colonel Kdecker?" Kirk asks. **(A/N: I kno I didn't spell decker rite! Hes 2 evil 2 get good splling lol!)**

"Colonel Deckler is a evil man who's been hunting down the A-Team. They help out people who the police can't help," Alexa explained. Kirk sits back and rubbed his chin.

"We may have been sent here to help these people," Spock says. "According to my calculashions, some msasive inturdimesinal bing has transported us—and this uouing lady—here."

"Uyou may be right, Jspock," Kirk says. "Ssee which way these people went." Alexa grinned as the trio get to work.

"Coming, Murdock," she whispered.

~(oOo)~

**Rule XX: Descriptions. You have two options here; describe nothing, or describe everything. If you describe nothing, then the reader isn't distracted from the all-important dialogue, but if you describe everything, the reader has a clear mental picture of your story. If you can't decide which to use, try both and see which you prefer. If you describe nothing, don't bother with dialogue tags if you don't feel like it, just have everyone call each other by their name constantly—the way real people do! With the latter, make sure you don't use any ordinary word when you can find two multi-syllabic synonyms for it, including the dialogue tags.**

"What happened, Hannibal? Why did we stop?"

"I don't know, Face."

"Maybe we blew a tire."

"Maybe, B.A."

"You got a plan, Hannibal?"

"Wait, who's talking? I can't see anything in here."

"Where'd you come from?"

"I've always been here."

"How many people are in this truck?"

"You, me, B.A., Face, a guard…"

"Don't forget me!"

"Wait, who are you again?"

At that junction, the battered metal egress swung creakily wide, allowing dim luminous street lamp light to pour like viscous molasses into the murky interior of the military vehicle. Ceasing to coze, the trio of unfortuante detainees clambered lithely into the silent boulevard, and warily contemplated their stern-faced vanguard. Colonel Decker, wearing a nefarious sneer on his narrow lips, casually exited the worn cab of the clunky truck and stormed towards the darkened roadway ahead.

"What's the delay?" The Colonel blustered vociferously. Out of the Stygian depths before the caravan of vehicles boldly strode a quartet of individuals. The first was a tall, heroic figure with chocolate-colored locks and intelligent hazel orbs. He wore a golden-colored tunic and ebony pants, along with gleaming obsidian boots. A mysterious silvery-colored gun-like object was clasped firmly in his right hand. The second paladin had raven-black locks cut in a neat line across his forehead, just above his strangely upswept brows. His ears were delicately pointed at the ends, and his doe-colored orbs were stern. He was dressed identically to the first man, only his own tunic was cerulean. The third man was older than his fellows, with silver-tinged bronze hair and sapphire-colored orbs, in the same style of dress as the second. As the fourth palladium stepped lightly out of the murky shadows, every person gathered in that place gasped in larruping shock.

"Alexa!" Exploded Murdock joyfully.

"Hey," the girl tergiversated, waving her free hand—the other clenched a gleaming phaser with its slender fingers.

"Now," Impinged Kirk , glaring piercingly at the marmoreal Decker. "You will release these people, take your cars and go back where you came from, or we'll fire."

"Hah!" Decker opined, cooly folding his hardened hands in one smooth movement behind his ramrod-straight back. "We outnumber you five to one. How do you think you're going to get rid of us?"

In simple answer, Kirk calmly aimed his futuristic phaser at the battered truck and instantly pulled the sensitive trigger. A glowing beam of scarlet light shot instantly from the end of the eldritch weapon and vaporised the ancient vehicle before the startled eyes of the several MPs. As one frightened man, each shambolic bravo of the military group instantaneously threw down his brand new gun. The discomfited Decker was reduced to caveman-esque blind terror.

Her electric blue hair fluttering behind her, Alexa trotted lightly across the cracked pavement and began easily uncuffing the bewildered but jubilant A-Team.

"They're friends," Alexa vocalized swiftly in explanation.

"Amazing," Hannibal conjectured wonderingly, simultaneously rubbing his chafed wrists.

**Rule XXI: Your formatting is vitally important. You can clump everything into one big, fat paragraph, but most people agree that this doesn't surprise the reader nearly enough. Be unexpected. Hit your "enter" key whenever you feel like it, and if you choose to use line breaks to show a change of scene—or change of anything—make them as pretty as you can.**

"Who are you people?" Decker asked. "None of your

Business," Kirk replied. "Just get back in your cars and drive away." Glaring, Decker did. "How are you here?" Murdock asked Alexa, looking her up and down in joyous amazement. She smiled shyly. "These

Guys helped me out," she said, twirling a violet-dyed lock around her finger.

"Wonderful," a strange

Voice broke in. Everyone turned around, and a strange man walked out of the darkness, clapping slowly. "You pass t-

-he test

, gentlemen," he said. "Now I'll return you to

Your

Own time."

~*~*Ωβδϫ◊◊◊◊◊ϫδβΩ*~*~

"Wait, who are you?" Kirk asked. The man slapped his forehead dramatically. "Of course, how silly of me to not introduce myself. Q, my friends call me Q. I'm an interdimensional being of godlike power who's been toying with you mortals." "Why?" Alexa asked, folding her arms. "Boredom. There simply isn't much for an interdimensional

being of godlike power to do, so I decided to make your dreams come true, Alexa, out of the goodness of my heart. Time to say

~*~*Ωβδϫ◊◊◊◊◊ϫδβΩ*~*~

~*~*Ωβδϫ◊◊◊◊◊ϫδβΩ*~*~

Good-bye, gentlemen." With a snap

Of his fingers, Q sent Kirk, Spock and McCoy back to the Enterprise. Then he disappeared himself.

Murdock took Alexa's hands in his own. "I'm just glad you're alive,"

He said, looking into her deep violet eyes. She flushed, and squeezed

His hands. The rest of the A-Team went back to the Van, sensing the moment. Not saying anything, Alexa just leaned forward and kissed the pilot. He put his hands around her waist and returned the kiss.~*~*Ωβδϫ◊◊◊◊◊ϫδβΩ*~*~

**A/N: Awww, Murdock & Alexa arr 2gether at last! Or ar they? Ooh, I love my cliffies! Keep reading and if yu don't review, I won't rite any more! You noodle….love my randomness!**

~(oOo)~

Author's Note: Finally, the secret of how ridiculous misspellings get past Suethors—just type with your eyes shut! (Maybe this helps them imagine the scene better?) Actually, though, after I finished I went back and swapped up the tenses a few times. People, please don't say something is "green-colored" or "red in color." Just the color is enough! Sappy!Murdock is a struggle to write. I just want to cut away!


	5. Chapter 5: Authorial Behavior

Disclaimer: I don't own the A-Team, How to Write Badly Well, or the responses this chapter is partially based on.

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**Rule XXII: You might have noticed, while uploading your fic, some rules on this website. They mention things like using a spell-checker, not writing in script format, etc. Do not be alarmed, though—your story won't get removed if it's popular, and it's sure to be!**

Author's Note: Thanks 4 so many awesome reviews! :D :D You all keep my ideas flowing so thanks! Yur all so nice and I love you, but keep reviewing or I won't write anymore—I'm so cruel lol! ;D Keep reading because I have more twists coming—I love my twists ;) ;) ;)

Some of you people have been whining about my splling or stupid stuff like that. Isay :DON'T LIKE DON'T READ! IF U HAVE NOTHING NICE TO SAY DON'T SAY NOTHING ATALL! IM NOT GOING TO CHANGE WHO I AM FOR HATERZS LIKE YOU!

**Rule XXIII: You are the author. You are now the most important person on the website, for you are a new writer who has made an auspicious debut, and whose story (the word "work," as you may have noticed, doesn't really apply) is good purely because you actually sat down and wrote it. If all your reviews have filled you with conflicting emotions, then pour them out in a chapter-long Author's Note. No, you will not get removed despite this being expressly against the site's rules, they don't pay attention! This is a good time to put down those flamers who have dared say anything even remotely negative about your fic. If you pour your heart and soul into a rant full of fury and number symbols, then they will realize the error of their ways, that they are nerds with no life who really could be doing better things than making you feel bad. Your nice reviewers will probably chip in and flame them as well, which should always be encouraged. Expect many apologies, and if you don't get them, then demand a certain number of reviews before you update, to remind yourself how many fans you have. Actually, a better name for this website would be Feelgoodaboutyourself dot com, it's just that important that your self esteem is boosted regardless of skill level!**

AN THE REST F YOU WHO FLAMMD ME—IM KEEPING MY STORY UP SO THEIR HA! WHAT R U GOING TO DO NOW? UR JUST JELAUS NERDS WHO LIVE IN UR PARENTS BASEMENTS AND CANT WRITE YOURSELFS SO YUR MEAN 2 EVERY ONE ELSE! NOBODYS PERFECT ITS FANFICTION AN I PUT MY STORIES UP BCUS I WANT 2! I COULD BE DOING OTHER THINGS CUTTING MYSELF OR DOING DRUGS INSTEAD OF RITING FANFICTN N NOT HURTING ANY1!

**Rule XXIV: Rewriting. So many people approve of it, but for no reason. Why bother, I say, since who really cares whether you changed your OC's hair color or somehow gave B.A. enough arms to hold an automatic machine gun and a pair of bad guys at once? The only ones who care are the haters, and we already know how to deal with them. Never, ever, ever rewrite, unless you're going back to the beginning and revamping your entire story, because it simply isn't worth it.**

I kno I changed Alexa's hair color, so what? I liked blue then and purple now & Im not going 2 change whu I am 4 some person on the interunet! Do u want me 2w jjst redo the hole story, is that what u want? Becus Im not going 2 hah! Now ur stuck, u stupid flamer! Im going 2 your storys 2 flame it now!

Yo awesome people wh favorittide my fic help me beat the flamers! Beat flamz with flames—they can dish it out but they can't take it! Im depressed &mad now, so give me 5 reviewz or Im not gonna finishh this story & the flamers will win!

~(oOo)~

A/N: Several points of that rant were based off of actual conversations I had with writers, and it's left me weirdly depressed remembering those. Some authors will respond with admitting their lack of ability and ask for help, but a few get angry—I try to stay away from obvious Suefics that aren't someone's first, though, so it's pretty rare. Only once did I ever provoke the CAPSLOCK OF RAGE—the only negative reviewer on a moderately popular story, which the author decided to rewrite and never got around to. It's funny how some badfic authors can get ten positive reviews and one negative, and that one voice of dissension prompts a ragequit. Undeserved, yet incredibly fragile, self esteem strikes again.


	6. Chapter 6: Finishing Up

**Rule XXV: Research. You may have guessed, by how far in I've put this rule, that this isn't very important. You don't have to even have seen more than a few episodes of the show you now adore to write fanfiction about it! Make things up and never look back, your reviewers will understand. You don't even need to recheck something you've already written, because that would be rewriting, and that's an all-or-nothing rule.**

**Rule XXVI: If you're an over-analyst, then go ahead and look things up, make yourself happy. However, this is fanfiction, don't feel confined by what you've learned—write whatever you want to happen anyway, and mention how it really is in an Author's Note, preferably right after the relevant line, and your readers will understand that you are a smart person and won't waste their time telling you those dull facts in their reviews. This also goes for things like canon characters' personalities. You should want Face to become monogamous, Hannibal to become a doting father, and Murdock a Don Juan, because if we wanted to watch the characters be themselves, we'd watch the show. All you need is their catchphrases. This is fanfiction: be unexpected.**

"Oh, and one more thing." Q popped out of the air. He snapped his fingers, and a bundle of papers appeared in Alexa's hands. "You've earned them, gentlemen." He disappeared again. The Team gathered around Alexa as she started looking through the papers.

"What is it?" Hannibal asked.

"Looks like military papers," Alexa said. Then her face lit up. "Hey, it's the orders you got to rob the Bank of Hanoi!" The A-Team stared.

"All we need to do is take these to the MPs, and we'll get our pardons," Face breathed. Murdock hugged Alexa so she almost dropped the papers.

"We're free men! Yeehaw!" He yelled, swinging her around. **(A/N: The papers also say Murdocks sane so hecan leave the VA n be with Alexa! J) **Rachelle drove up, and hopped out of the car. Face met her halfway, and quickly explained what had happened. She let out a shriek of joy, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. Face glanced over at Hannibal, who shrugged. Happily, Face returned the kiss. Jack climbed out of the car, and walked over to his grandfather.

"Is he going to be my new Daddy?" Jack asked, pointing to Face. **(A/N: I 4got 2 say that Rachelles a widow so its ok 4 her 2b with Fcae ;) cuz Idont care whut the stupid movie sez he wuddnt get with a marrd woman!)**

"Looks like it. I love it when a plan comes together," Hannibal said, grinning down at the kid.

~(oOo)~

**Rule XXVII: You may have gotten bored of your fic, in which case it's perfectly fine to leave it dead and rotting on The Pit, because it's simply not worth your time to hunt down the "delete story" option. However, if you actually manage to get to the end, here are some helpful ideas for a good epilogue. One: All couples are together and expecting/with new babies. Insert a scene so sugary and cute that it sends your readers into a sugar coma. Two: All just a dream…or was it? Your OC wakes up in her own bedroom, and wonders wildly what happened. She looks around, very sad, and if you're the tragic type, you can end there. Or you could have her go downstairs to be introduced to a possible clone of the canon, ending with him recognizing her.**

Epilogue—One Year Later

The A-Team was on the beach, having a picnic. B.A. and Jack were building a sand castle, Hannibal was holding his granddaughter, and Murdock was trying to keep his and Alexa's son from eating too much sand. Rachelle and Alexa were busy with the picnic things, assisted by Face.

"I just don't want you to over-exert yourself," Face said to Rachelle, who was already pregnant with their second child.

"I'm not going to break," she laughed. Alexa sat down next to Murdock, and pulled a strand of seaweed off of her son's forehead.

"He looks just like you," she said to Murdock.

"But he has your eyes," Murdock replied, twining a strand of her electric blue hair around one finger. Alexa looked around at the beach, and thought the day couldn't get any better.

Then Alexa snapped awake, and sat up in bed. She stared at her dark bedroom in confusion. Then it all flooded back, and she gasped. How could that have been a dream? It had been so real! He'd been so real. A single crystalline tear trickled down her face, as she remembered Murdock.

"Alex! What's taking you so long?" Her mother called up the stairs.

"Coming," Alexa called. She dressed robotically, and was outside and waiting for the bus in five minutes. As Alexa leaned against a light pole, someone came up behind her and coughed. She looked around, and froze. Murdock—or his double—stood there, hands shoved into his pockets.

"Excuse me, your name wouldn't happen to be Alexa, would it?" He asked. "Cos I think I know you from somewhere."

"Murdock?" Alexa said.

"There, I knew it, I knew I'd met you—you were the gal who got us our pardons!" Murdock cried. "Hannibal asked me to find you and offer you a spot on the A-Team. That Q guy said we could give it a shot." Letting out a squeal of delight, Alexa hugged Murdock.

"Yes, yes, yes!" She cried. This had turned out to be the happiest day of her life!

~(oOo)~

A/N:…I…the sweetness…*starts crying.*

Ahem. I apologize for that horrendous epilogue. I may yet PPC Alexa myself, just for the catharsis. What do you think? Why is it that so many authors make their characters teenagers, and then put them in relationships with men at least thirty?


	7. Chapter 7: Sequels

Disclaimer: The How To Write Badly Well blog, the A-Team, and the various stories this is parodying are not mine.

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**Rule XXVIII: At some point, you probably had a brilliant idea that ran something like this: what if I wrote a story about the A-Team—and Alexa—'s kids? If you did, start writing it immediately—you don't have to worry about spoiling your original story or anything, if you're bored then so are your readers—and post. You can have the exact same plot as your original fic—or no plot at all, if you want—but the new names make it instantly fresh and interesting.**

**Rule XXIX: Characterization of a sequel's cast. As Rule XI stated, children act exactly like their parents used to when they were fun characters, so make the A-Team's kids act just like them. (Or rather, let them use their parents' catchphrases and have them describe each other as being like their parents.) Parenthood changes people. There are five types of parents: Blusterers/Scolders, Smotherers, Deadbeats, Fountains of Wisdom and the Benevolent Dead. Since the mother is your OC, she **_**must**_** be one of the latter two, but feel free to bash, twist and abuse the canons as much as you like. After all, this is fanfiction; who reads it because they like the actual show?**

Sarah was woken up by her older brother shooting out the lamp next to her bed. She rolled off, drawing her own gun as she did, and leveled it at Harry. He threw up his hands, laughing.

"You win again, Sarah," he said. "You're just too fast!"

"Kids, get down here, you're going to be late for school," their mother called up the stairs. Harry ran out, and Sarah got dressed. She put on a pair of ripped jeans, a pink t-shirt with skulls-and-crossbones all over it, and her favorite leather jacket, which had a leopard's head on the back. Grabbing her backpack, Sarah ran downstairs and slid into her place at the table.

"You kids need to stop shooting up the house," Murdock said to his kids, "It costs money to fix all the stuff you break." Harry was busily petting Billy Jr., who was just as invisible as his father.

"They need to practice some time, H.M.," Alexa said.

"Fine, but outside, and not at each other! One of you could get hurt," Murdock insisted. Both kids laughed and ran out the door.

At the bus stop, Harry and Sarah ran into their best friends, driving in Leanne's red sports car. Leanne Barackus was tall, dark-skinned and muscular, with her hair in dreads. She wore about two hundred pounds of gold over her tank top and overalls. Amy Peck had white-blonde hair that brushed her shoulders and startlingly blue eyes. She wore a military jacket over her white t-shirt and short plaid skirt, and she had on her favorite tooled-leather cowboy boots. Her younger brother, Joey, had darker blond hair and wore a sweater vest over a blue collared shirt, along with long pants.

"Hey, how's Jack doing in college?" Sarah asked Amy, as she hopped into the car.

"Great! He's passing all his exams with flying colors," Amy said. "Keeping Mom's parents happy and getting a steady job. I love it when a plan comes together."

"Sarah, yo' brother's got that imaginary dog again," Leanne growled. "I ain't lettin no dog that ain't there in my car."

"Harry, you can't bring a dog to school anyway," Joey said. Glum-faced, Harry leaned out of the car and scratched behind Billy's ears.

"Run on home, boy, I'll see you after school," he said. Satisfied, Leanne started the engine.

Once they were on the road, Amy turned to the rest of the group.

"You guys remember Wendy Matt, right?" She asked.

"Sure, the poor little rich girl. Don't you owe her a bicycle, Joey?" Sarah said. Joey squirmed lower into his seat.

"Yeah, that's the one. I found her crying behind the bleachers yesterday at school. Turns out her parents are getting pushed around by some smugglers," Amy said. The group exchanged grins.

"Time to pull the B-Team out of the closet?" Sarah asked. Grinning, Amy nodded.

"What'll Mom and Dad say?" Joey asked. "You know how they got last time. I can't be grounded for a month; I've got dates lined up through the semester!"

"You would," Sarah said, giving him a little punch.

"No problem there," Leanne said. "I overheard Dad talking to the others on the phone last night. They've got a mission in Cincinnati, and they'll be gone for at least a week." Sarah and Harry high-fived, Joey smiled weakly, and Amy and Leanne exchanged grins.

~(oOo)~

A/N: Yes, the story continues! Thanks to storyfan101 for reminding me that badfics spawn like…rabbits don't spawn, but no other word fits quite as well. Next chapter: Serious Issues.


	8. Chapter 8: Serious Issues

Disclaimer: I do not own the A-Team, or the How to Write Badly Well blog, both of which are awesome.

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><strong>

**Rule XXX: While your story is basically a fun, lighthearted romp in a fun, lighthearted fandom, as a fanfic writer, you may decide to make the game more serious. This will add depth to your story, and help you show off your skills as a serious writer as well as a fun one. And the best part? You don't need any research to help you write these things! Just do whatever works for your plot! If you want to use rape, underage pregnancy, drug abuse, Nazis, or any other Very Bad Thing, go right ahead. Put everyone—in and out of story—in tears. Make absolutely sure you have at least one Attempted Rape in an Alley, whether it's logical or not. This is such a good way to either introduce a hero or have your girl show off her l33t fighting skills that logic must take the back seat. Actually, logic needs to get out of the car and start hitchhiking, if it hasn't bailed out by now.**

Sarah crouched in a dark alley, holding her walkie-talkie.

"Any sign of our man yet?" She hissed into it.

"Negative," Joey said. "Nobody's gone in or out of the house."

"Harry, you got anything yet?" Sarah asked, switching channels. She didn't get an answer. "Harry?"

"This is so _boring_," Harry whined. "I'm falling asleep. Couldn't we have staked this place out during the day?"

"Be quiet and keep watching," Sarah whispered. Leanne broke into the conversation.

"Guys, a van's pulling up back here," she said.

"Positions," Amy ordered. Sarah peered out of the alley, but couldn't see anything.

Then a huge hand clamped down over her mouth, and she was dragged back into the alley. She tried to bite the hand, but it was wearing a leather glove and she couldn't get through. An arm wrapped around her waist, pinning her arms to her sides, and Sarah was slammed into the wall. Now she got a look at her attacker.

He was an ape of a man, dressed in a black trenchcoat and looming over her. He held both of her wrists with one hand easily, and she couldn't even loosen his grip with all of her struggling. Then he bent down and kissed Sarah hard on the mouth. He tasted like cheap liquor and cigarettes. He started stroking her hair with his now-free hands.

Now Sarah got mad. She kicked him where it hurt and slipped out of his grip as he doubled over. She dropped into a fighting stance, remembering the techniques that had won her so many karate tournaments in the past. She landed a solid kick on the back of the man's neck, and he fell to the pavement.

"Sarah!" That was Harry's voice. Sarah heard a gun being cocked, and turned around slowly. A group of men in black trenchcoats were standing at the end of the alley, holding each of her friends with a gun to their heads.

"Put your hands on your head or they'll get it," one said, jabbing the muzzle of his gun into Leanne's temple. She glared at him, but her hands were tied behind her back and she couldn't do anything. Sarah put her hands on her head, and more men came to tie her up as well.

"You're all very foolish children, and you've bitten off more than you can chew," the same man said again, as one of his goons shoved a sack over Sarah's head, picked her up and slung her over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes.

~(oOo)~

**Rule XXXI: Torture gets its own division, because unlike many of the other issues, this one usually occurs in the present of your fic, and it makes your story darker instead of just more realistic. Bad guys love to do this to their prisoners, just because they're evil, and they aren't very creative. Beating, whipping, Viet Cong tortures you looked up on the internet to cause bad flashbacks in the A-Team, and rape—for girls—are all favorites. Don't worry about using logic while inflicting these tortures—if you want your villain to whip the hero on the chest with chains while the latter is slanted above him, go ahead! Make sure your heroes don't so much as whimper through the ordeal, even though it's more than any human should be able to stand, otherwise they would seem weak and wimpy. Don't forget to comment on their absurd stoicism, preferably by having a torturer be awestruck by how much pain this one person can handle. Also, after passing out once, the torture victims should be completely healed.**

The hood finally came off Sarah's head, and she blinked under the bright ceiling light. She was dangling by her bound wrists from a meat hook in the ceiling. Looking around, the girl saw that the rest of her friends were in the same predicament.

The man who'd spoken earlier was standing in front of Sarah. He was tall, with a scarred face, white hair and icy blue eyes. Sarah's breath caught in her throat: Colonel Decker.

"So, this is the B-Team," he said, and shook his head. "And I thought your parents were an unlikely group."

"So, did you threaten Wendy's parents or was the drug ring real, and you just took advantage of it?" Sarah asked. Decker smacked her cheek, and she turned back to look at him silently.

"This is kidnapping, sucka!" Leanne yelled. Decker slapped her as well.

"Didn't your parents teach you to not speak unless you're spoken to?" He asked. "Well, considering that your parents are war criminals, I suppose not. And to answer your question, no, there never was a drug ring. I expected your parents to fall into the trap, but they'd already left on another mission. Speaking of them, where are they?"

"Like we'd ever tell you," Sarah said.

"Well, h-he could be very persuasive," Joey said. Harry kicked his shin.

"I certainly could," Decker said. "I was dishonorably discharged from the military for not capturing the A-Team, along with all the destruction I caused trying to do it. Therefore, I no longer have to obey military code concerning interrogation of prisoners." Joey gulped audibly.

"We're not telling you anything," Sarah said firmly. "You just want to kill our parents."

"Fine," Decker said, with a grim smile. He stepped behind the row of kids, and came back slapping a cat-o-nine-tails against his right hand. "Last chance, kiddies. Where have Mommy and Daddy gone?" Nobody spoke.

Decker stepped behind them, and with a wide sweep, got both Leanne and Sarah across the shoulders. They didn't even flinch. He did it again, hitting Amy and Harry. The next blow wrapped around Joey's middle. Nobody made a sound.

Decker began to get angry. He hit them harder, and began to draw blood, but still they were silent. Then he switched to a bamboo cane. This time he got a gasp out of Joey, but nothing more. He lost his temper, and started whacking the group indiscriminately. Their continued silence made him even angrier.

Finally, Decker stopped, out of breath. Amy, Harry and Joey were unconscious, Sarah and Leanne nearly so, and all were covered in blood, along with Decker. With a curse, the former colonel threw the rod away and stormed out.

~(oOo)~

The A-Team was in their Van, heading back home after a successful mission. They'd called their kids, but only gotten answering machine messages. Odd, but kids were kids.

"I'll try one more time," Alexa said, dialing the phone in the Van. It rang, and then the answering machine came on. Alexa froze: this wasn't their answering machine message. She held the phone away from her ear so the others could hear.

"Hello, A-Team. This is Decker. If you ever want to see your kids again, get back here fast and meet me at the rock quarry at midnight. No weapons, no tricks, the usual spiel." The message ended with a click.

"Gun it, B.A.!" Hannibal ordered.

"You don't have to tell me twice!" B.A. replied, and the Van screeched past the speed limit.

~(oOo)~

A/N: That moment in the alley was _amazingly_ uncomfortable to write. The torture less so, but…I owe you guys a goodfic for all of this. It'll ease my conscience for the Issues above and *shudder* Murdock's behavior all through this fic. And again, the anti-gravity whipping is based on an actual fic, though in the Power Rangers fandom rather than this one. I used to have really ridiculous ideas about human endurance, though fortunately the stories they happened in were written before I'd discovered the internet—or fan-fiction, actually!


	9. Chapter 9: Action Sequences

**Rule XXXII: A good action scene is pivotal to a story in an action-themed fandom, such as the A-Team. Imitate the new film style of confusing the living daylights out of your audience—but instead of moving the camera around a lot or throwing it in the middle of the action, be vague about what's happening and go crazy with the formatting. Skim over important moments that don't really interest you.**

The guards all fell down as Alexa shot them, and nobody heard because she'd put a silencer on her pistol. She snuck to the door and unlocked it, letting the rest of the A-Team except for B.A. inside. B.A. was at the Van.

The group crept through the compound on tiptoe. Alexa suddenly put out a hand to stop the others, and pointed to some laser tripwires she'd spotted.

"Good call," Hannibal whispered, and they pulled themselves up onto pipes running along the ceiling and climbing over the tripwires.

"All those years on the monkey bars finally pay off," Murdock whispered, and Alexa giggled. "How did you get in here?" Everyone whirled around to see Colonel Decker standing behind them. "The usual way: your guards are stupid," Hannibal replied, and took a puff of his cigar. "Don't be so cocky, Gramps, remember I've got your kids downstairs," Colonel Decker said. "And

So you do," Face said. Then he punched Decker across the face.

"Now, B.A.!" Hannibal yelled into his walkie-talkie. The Van exploded through the wall, and B.A. leaned out the window to throw everyone a machine gun. They opened fire as Decker's men came running.

~(oOo)~

**Rule XXXIII: Always remember: Awesomeness beats logic. Driving a motorcycle through a stained glass window is awesome, and so you should do it even if your heroes previously didn't have a motorcycle, and the place you're invading has no good reason to have stained glass windows. Don't do research on weapons or technology to make your story more accurate, just do whatever you feel like as far as guns, tanks or cars go. Try to surprise your readers with creative action, like having B.A. fencing with Decker on a catwalk over a bubbling vat of acid. Never mind how they got up there, why someone would put an open vat of acid underneath a walkway or where either learned to fence, it is awesome, period. And don't feel obligated to introduce any cool toy until the very second it's needed.**

Sarah twisted her hand around, and slid her fingers underneath her watchband. After feeling around for a few seconds, she popped the secret panel and began sawing on the ropes with the little blade now there. She dropped lightly to the floor, and grabbed a stool.

"Hurry, girl, I can hear fighting going on upstairs," Leanne said, as Sarah cut her loose. Joey hit the ground with a moan, but Leanne dragged him up. "On yo' feet and stop whinin'," she said. Joey rubbed his wrists and glared balefully at her.

"What do we do now?" Harry asked, as Sarah finished freeing him.

"Find weapons and help out our folks," Amy said, flexing her fingers to get the blood flowing again.

"Good plan, but how do we do that?" Joey asked.

"Upstairs," Sarah said, and the kids ran up the stairs. There was a glass-fronted cabinet in Decker's office, containing various Eastern weapons that Decker had taken off of Viet Cong officers. Leanne smashed the case with one punch, and began passing the weapons to the others.

"What's this called again?" Joey asked, whirling a metal ball on a long chain.

"Meteor hammer," Leanne said. Joey began spinning it, and hurled it at the wall. He punched right through, and whistled.

"This is a chakram, right?" Harry said, spinning the metal ring on his finger.

"Right," Sarah said, giving an elegant katana a few twirls.

"I think I'll just stick with these," Amy said, pulling a pair of pepperbox guns off some hooks on the wall. Leanne found a rocket launcher, grunted in satisfaction and hoisted it over her shoulder.

"Let's go," Leanne said.

~(oOo)~

**Rule XXXIV: Death is a good dramatic tool. As always, exhibit a blazingly obvious double standard. Characters you dislike or don't care about should get shot through the head and forgotten, and your OCs and pet characters should have long, drawn-out death scenes where everyone cries their eyes out—or cries single tears as beautiful as diamonds, whichever you prefer. As for cannon fodder, create as many as you need regardless of whether they all have good reason to exist, and use their deaths to make your heroes look more awesome, because it's not as if they're people too! You may be thinking "Oh no, now what do I do? My one favorite character is dead!" Silly, silly writer. Death sticks to OCs like scotch tape to your tongue! A dramatic resurrection—or Disney Death—is the perfect way to finish off a story.**

The kids poured out into the courtyard, where their parents were fighting Colonel Decker and his men. The ex-Colonel whirled around as he saw them enter, and shouted in disbelief.

Amy and Leanne opened fire on the approaching soldiers. They took out dozens, but more kept coming. Soon Leanne abandoned the rocket launcher for her fists. Joey swung the meteor hammer, smacking one man flat on his back with a concussive blow. Whizzing around the courtyard, Harry's chakram was barely visible as it sliced through the soldiers. Sarah knocked a man's gun away and ran him through with her katana, then somersaulted over him and yanked it out to slash another soldier across the chest.

Soon the teenage girl spotted her mother face-to-face with Colonel Decker himself, He had a gun with a bayonet, and she her favorite weapon: a broadsword. The man had a cut across his forehead, and blood was tricking down it. He snarled with anger as Alexa parried every blow. After a few expert flicks and jabs, Alex knocked the weapon out of Decker's hand and stabbed him in the gut.

"You lose forever, Decker," she said. He crumpled, and as Alexa wiped the blade clean on his coat, the Van burst through the wall. Everyone started running for it, avoiding gunfire from the remaining soldiers. Sarah whooped and went after them.

As she ran, though, she saw Decker move. His hand slid out from under him, and Sarah could see a tiny pistol clutched in his bloodstained fist.

"Look out!" Sarah screamed, and leaped the last few feet. She saw her parents turn, just as Decker fired. A hot pain exploded in Sarah's chest, and a second in her shoulder. She staggered back and fell to the ground, as Decker went limp.

Several hands picked Sarah up and carried her into the Van, and they started driving away. Sarah's breathing was fast and light, and she could feel the blood soaking into her clothes. She opened her eyes, and focused on her mother's face.

"Is everyone else okay?" Sarah asked, and winced in pain.

"Yes, we're all fine," Alexa said. "You're going to be okay," she assured her daughter, taking her hand. Murdock pressed two wads of cloth to the bullet holes, to stop the bleeding, but they were soaked in seconds.

Sarah's vision was going blurry, but she could see the single tear running down her mother's face. She tried to focus, but it hurt too much. Shivering, she clenched Alexa's hand tighter. Then everything went dark.

~(oOo)~

"Well, well, well, like mother, like daughter," a man's voice drawled. Sarah whirled around. She was standing in a very white place. Even though she could see the blood stains on her torn clothes, she felt perfectly fine. There was a balding man standing behind her, dressed in white.

"Who are you?" Sarah demanded, dropping into a fighting stance.

"Easy, impetuous girl. I'm Q, it's short for Q. Don't tell me your parents didn't ever mention how I saved them all," he said. Sarah straightened up.

"I remember. What am I doing here?"

"Well, the fact is, you're dead," Q said, walking around Sarah in a circle. "Have to admit, I wasn't expecting Decker to have that gun, or you to jump in the way. Bit embarrassing, actually. I made a bet with Q—we're all called Q, I know, silly but there it is—that you'd all win, and this kind of taints the victory. He isn't around right now, though, so goodbye and don't tell!" And he snapped his fingers.

~(oOo)~

Sarah sat up with a gasp and panted, staring wildly around the Van. Everyone stared at her. It looked as if they'd all been crying.

Sarah realized that the bullet wounds didn't hurt, and quickly felt for the holes. They were gone without a trace. Alexa seized her daughter in a hug.

"We thought you were dead!" She cried.

"I was," Sarah said, and Alexa let go of her. "Remember that Q guy you told me about?" Alexa let out an incredulous laugh, and hugged her daughter again. Harry and Murdock joined them as the Van drove into the sunset.

~(oOo)~

**Rule XXXVI: Finally, we come to the point of originality. By its position, you may deduce one of two things: 1) it is not important to write original fanfiction, and/or 2) I forgot about it until now. After all, there's no such thing as a new idea, so you shouldn't even try to be interesting or different! You shouldn't plagiarize other peoples' stories—but since plagiarism is copying-and-pasting with only names changed, no worries! If you happened to see at least ten fics which all follow your plot almost exactly, feel free to accuse them of plagiarism, because we have double standards to uphold.**

A/N: Awww, so kute! Happy endingg…oris it? Hahaha, Im so cruel lol! Thank u all 4 ur awesome reviews! But I have 2 tell u that NinjaStyleDancer05 tottally stole my idea, not cool man! L Anywayz, review or Ill stopp writing!

**Rule XXXVII: If you're running out of ideas, but your readers are demanding more, ask for suggestions and do them all, no matter how insane or illogical. They think Hannah Montana should hire the A-Team? Do it! The Van should fall through a Stargate? You don't even know what a Stargate is? Go watch the first five YouTube videos that pop up when you search it, you'll be fine.**

A/N: An give me suggestins of whut 2 do with the B-Team nextt!

~(oOo)~

A/N: If your name coincidentally happens to be NinjaStyleDancer05, awesome, I love Linkara too! Remember, people, don't make accusations in Author's Notes—you could be wrong, and then you will be very embarrassed. I have seen this happen in an actual fic. Seriously, though, if I've missed anything to write about that really bugs you, please, tell me about it so I can continue the story!

And to anyone who noticed during that first sequence: it's a little-known fact that Face has a third arm, which he keeps tucked into a dimensionally transcendental pocket in his jacket for just such an occasion.


	10. Chapter 10: Crossovers

Disclaimer: I don't own the A-Team, the How to Write Badly Well blog, or Star Trek. Yes, we return to the final frontier today—but maybe not the one you'd expect!

~(oOo)~

**Rule XXXVIII: Crossovers are fun to do, because you have so many more people to sideline to make your OCs more awesome! Make sure to label your story a crossover, but don't actually get more than one world involved until, say, the fifth chapter at the soonest. Previously, I mentioned not needing to know a fandom before writing it. That definitely applies here—after all, it wouldn't change the way you wrote if you'd seen every episode/the movie twenty times! As before, don't waste time on the "why" or the "how," or even continuity issues, like introducing a character in an episode seasons before their arrival.**

The A-Team Van drove down a dark, gravel road. Everybody had stopped talking, and some of them were asleep. Then a blue, pulsing portal opened up in front of the Van, and before B.A. could stop, they'd driven right through it.

Then they were driving in a tunnel only just big enough for them. Everyone was awake and asking questions, and B.A. yelled for them to shut up and let him drive. Then something hit the side of the Van, nearly tipping it over.

"What was that?" Joey screamed.

"I dunno, but if it scratched my paint…" B.A. began. Then it hit them again, and the Van's side mirror snapped off on a boulder. B.A. screeched the Van to a halt.

"What are you doing?" Face protested.

"Nobody," B.A. began, and revved the engine, "Nobody breaks one o' my mirrors and gets away with it."

"Um, Dad?" Leanne said from the shotgun seat. She was staring out the window. "It's a giant snake thing."

"What?" Everyone exclaimed at once. The creature rammed the back of the Van, smashing open a window, and everyone got a glimpse of a massive jaw full of sharp teeth. Screaming ensued, and Rachel and Alexa dove for their guns.

The creature got its teeth into the door, and began trying to rip it off. Joey's sleeve got caught on the handle, and he was nearly dragged out. Face grabbed him and threw him to the front of the Van, and Leanne punched the creature right in the face. It snorted and drew back, but just for a second.

Then it charged again, biting through the metal of the door like it was made of cardboard. Rachel, Alexa, Amy and Hannibal opened fire on it, and it screamed as the bullets tore into its grayish hide. It snapped at them, and a chunk of metal from the door struck Amy in the head. She crumpled.

Rachel twisted around, and emptied her pistol into the creature's throat as it snapped at her. Its jaws closed down on her arm, and she screamed, Alexa dragging her arm free as the monster howled. It thrashed around in its death throes, knocking the Van around some more.

Rachel's vision began to go blurry. She looked down at her torn, bleeding arm, and tried to block out the pain. She could hear strangers shouting, and as she was picked up, she fainted.

~(oOo)~

**Rule XXXIX: Now that you have a whole new fandom, you have two options. One: have all of the new canon characters react to whatever your OCs do, obeying their orders with only "but that's crazy! It'll never work!" Two: Then introduce a whole new set of OCs from the new world, siblings or children, and have all of the canon characters stand around, gaping with awe, as they team up to save the day. Because heaven forbid you allow canon characters to do anything remotely awesome of their own volition! Don't forget to bash people you dislike!**

Rachel was back in the white place again, with Q pacing back and forth in front of her. He was muttering darkly.

"Um, hello again, Mr. Q," Rachel said. He started, and looked over at her.

"Oh, it's you. Wonderful. No, you're not dead again—but you very well could be! Shooting a Hanonian land eel in the throat, what kind of a brilliant move is that? You could still lose the arm from infection!"

"What happened?" Rachel asked.

Q sighed in exasperation. "Q caught me cheating. This is his penalty move—sending you all into the Delta Quadrant. Now please go away." He snapped his fingers before Rachel could reply.

Rachel woke up with a start. She was lying on a blanket on the grass, with her arm bandaged and in a sling. It was nighttime, and she could feel heat from a campfire off to the side. Carefully, she began to sit up.

Then she heard a strange man's voice, and saw a silhouette loom up over her. Instinctively, Rachel punched the stranger in the face, and he fell back with a muffled yell.

"Rachel!" That was her mom's voice. She pushed Rachel back down gently. "You need to rest, sweetheart."

"What happened?" Rachel asked, looking past Alexa. The rest of the A and B-Teams were by the fire, along with several strangers. Now that she was paying attention, Rachel noticed other fires nearby. There were a lot of people here, and they were wearing weird uniforms. The stranger was a human who looked a bit like a warthog, and he was clutching his bleeding nose.

"What was that for?" He cried.

"Sorry," Rachel said. "I thought you were attacking me." He humphed and staggered away. Rachel turned back to her mother. "Remember that Q guy?"

"Q?" A strange woman said. She hurried to Rachel's side, and knelt down. Her uniform had red shoulders, and she had long brown hair and a slightly gravelly voice. She was accompanied by a dark-haired man with a tattoo on the left side of his face.

"You've been talking to a Q?" He asked.

"Yeah," Rachel said, and explained the entire story. "What's the Delta Quadrant, and who are you?" Rachel asked at last.

"I'm Captain Kathryn Janeway, of the USS Voyager, this is my first officer Chakotay," the woman replied. "At least, we were, up until the Kazon took over. The Delta Quadrant is the section of the galaxy we happen to be in."

"Wait…galaxy?" Rachel asked. Alexa smiled.

"While you were out, they explained everything to us. Honey, we've jumped into the twenty-fourth century, and we're thousands of light years away from Earth. This," she gestured to the campfires, "Is the crew of the spaceship Voyager, and they've all been marooned on this planet by aliens."

Rachel lay back on her bed, and shut her eyes. Now, she realized that she kind of missed Decker. She heard the rest of the B-Team gather around her, and sat up carefully. Amy had a bandage around her head, and everyone else looked banged-up.

"Okay, so, we should probably get the spaceship back," Rachel said. Amy snorted.

"That would be lovely, but we can't, because they've already left!" She said. Rachel turned to Janeway.

"Was anyone left on the ship?" She asked.

"Just the Emergency Medical Hologram, and a crewman who went insane," Janeway said. "And I think my younger sister Penny stowed away—but they've probably captured her by now."

"Can we contact them?" Rachel asked. Chakotay shook his head.

"They left us with nothing," he said.

"But we have the Van," Leanne said. Rachel looked the way she was looking, and saw the Van parked in the bushes. It looked seriously battered, but in one piece. She began to grin.

~(oOo)~

Penny Janeway was in a Jeffries tube, breathing as lightly as she could. She tucked her bobbed brown hair over her ear, and tapped her combadge.

"T'Kira, have anything?" She whispered. Tuvok's sister was in Engineering, trying to get an override. She'd used a Vulcan Nerve Pinch on the Kazon there.

"Negative. Wait…I'm picking up a signal from the planet," she hissed. "It appears to be the ancient Earth signal pattern labeled Morse code."

"Look out, Penny, guards coming your way," Tim Chakotay interrupted. Jenny ducked into an alcove, but she was too late. The two Kazon spotted her and ran inside. Fortunately, Jenny had six black belts in Tae Kwon Do, and she made quick work of them.

"What was that message you mentioned?" Penny asked.

"It's instructions from the crew. They say we need to fake a Borg attack. I've started writing the holo-simulation now, and I think I can tap into the viewscreens to input it. I'll need you to plant some charges, so we get a few 'hits.'"

Penny grinned. "Sounds great. Let's go!"

~(oOo)~

The Kazon commander **(A/N:I probiblie couldn't spell his name n I don't want to look it uplol ;)) **was startled to see a Borg Cube materialize on Voyager's viewscreen. He shouted for his crew to begin evasive maneuvers, but the Cube fired. The ship rocked with the impact.

"Retreat! We'll skirt the planet—maybe the Borg will stop to assimilate those Starfleet officers," the commander ordered. Voyager swung around and flew back to the planet.

Penny crawled out into the transporter room, where Tim was working at the controls. He turned around—Penny liked his tattoo, it really brought out the black in his eyes—and gave her a thumbs-up.

"All set to beam a landing party aboard. You've got the phasers?" Penny held up the belts, each with a set of phasers strapped to it, and Tim grinned. "Locking on now."

Twelve people—B.A., Hannibal, Murdock, Face, Alexa, Janeway, Tom Paris, Chakotay, B'Elanna Torres, Rachel, Leanne and Harry materialized on the transporters. The A and B-Teams had their machine guns, and Penny quickly tossed the Voyager crew their phasers.

The Kazon commander was taken completely by surprise, as shots rang out all through the bridge. Within minutes, the entire Kazon crew had surrendered, and they were hauled off to the brig.

As Janeway sat down in the captain's chair, Q appeared. He was in a red Starfleet uniform, and looked thoroughly pleased.

"Well done, everyone!" He said. "Q has accepted my victory, and now we're going to clean up our mess." He snapped his fingers before anyone could speak.

The A and B-Teams were back in the Van, all whole again and driving down the same road. B.A. stopped the car, and everyone just stared at each other for a long, long time.

"That was strangely awesome," Joey said.

"You know, I think I could really like space," Face said. "Too bad it's so far in the future."

"Let's just go home," Alexa said.

"You said it," B.A. said, and started the engine again.

~(oOo)~

A/N: Welcome, to the idiocy that is Voyager—as written by someone who only knows what sfdebris has reviewed. I felt it would ring truer if I used a fandom I genuinely didn't know well.

There is one large portion of fanfiction, especially A-Team fanfiction that I have been ignoring: bad slash. Thing is, in order to address it, I'd have to write a sample of slash, and that would be more torturous than the Sappy!Murdock, the Caring!Hannibal, the attempted rape and torture scenes combined. Besides, I know my younger siblings are reading this fic, and I really don't want to introduce them to slash. So…sorry, no can do.

Update, June 18th, 2012: there is one more rule I've added, which you'll find on the Reviews page. Other than that, I think I'm done, unless I decide to revise this thing and try and make it worse.


End file.
